Stolen Dreams
by tiylaya
Summary: After the disastrous attack on the Space Centre, Anderson takes a moment to consider his actions.


**Stolen Dreams  
A Battle of the Planets vignette**

After the disastrous attack on the Space Centre, Anderson takes a moment to consider his actions.

This story is based on characters and situations from the animated series 'Battle of the Planets', produced by Sandy Frank Entertainment, which was in turn based on the anime series 'Science Ninja Team Gatchaman', produced by Tatsunoko productions. Characters are used without permission.

Feedback is always welcome.

* * *

I watch my children sleep, and I know that I have stolen their dreams.

Somewhere far behind us, the wreck of the Space Centre is still falling, plunging into the ocean's abyss. I shudder to realise how close I came to falling with it. I blanche realising what they risked to save me.

You'd think that they'd seek landfall, putting distance between themselves and the deep blue waters. Their fortress is gone now, and it will take time for the rest of the organisation to recover from the shock, but you would think the team might go home. Go to the quiet mansion where I oversaw their upbringing ... dragged them up, as the quaint old expression has it. I thought that myself, but I underestimated them. As I always do.

The mansion hasn't been home to them in years, any more than it has to me.

Home now is where G-Force is. Where the Phoenix is. Where the team is.

The loss of the Space Centre shook them. I could hear it in the tremble in their voices, see it in the lost expression in their eyes. But there was no mention of trying to find somewhere more comfortable. No discussion of what had happened. They simply set down on the ocean floor, waiting for the assembly rendezvous to be decided. Waiting for the opportunity to strike back at Spectra.

I used the Phoenix as my base for hours, coordinating the recovery effort from this unique vantage point, and they didn't question me. Even as I questioned my own right to lead them after such a disaster.

My children simply curled up in their seats, their wings wrapped around them, and waited for their chance to set the world to rights.

* * *

I shift slightly, trying to find a comfortable spot as I lean back in the chair they've given me. My skin feels gritty with the residue of salt water, and I know that my still-damp hair and moustache must make me look like a drowned rat. For a moment, vanity rears its head, but then I chuckle softly. Half of the organisation has seen me speaking today from the Phoenix, the silent presence of G-Force behind me. It's a little late to worry about appearance. I glance through the viewscreen into the dark waters, and know that only a crescent moon illuminates the sky above. The team drifted into sleep a long time ago, as my radio calls ended, and the endless paperwork began. I set that paperwork aside now. It's a little late to worry about many such things - in more ways than one.

My children stir in response to even so slight a noise, and Keyop coughs in his sleep. I rise silently, and pick up the blanket that lies at the foot of his chair. He allowed it to fall as I made call after call, presenting the illusion of G-Force's invulnerability. Now I drape the blanket over him, tucking it incongruously around his uniform. He murmurs Princess's name, but then his voice becomes harsher, angrier, and he mumbles about Zoltar instead.

Princess reacts too now, and her eyes half-open - instinctively seeking out Keyop. For a moment, her gaze settles on me and she frowns, aware that my presence is out of place, but too tired to remember the reason for it. I put my finger to my lips, the gesture one lifted straight from her childhood. A signal to her that all is well, and that it is time to sleep. How easily that lie comes to me. Her eyes close, and her head sinks back onto the pillow of her arms. I study her in her slumber and only now do I see what I'd missed before. The wings that enswathe her are red-lined, Mark reaching out instinctively to protect her.

I hold still for long moments, allowing the team to settle back into their fragile repose.

And as I stand, I watch my children sleep.

They sleep as soldiers do, determined to rest while they can, always ready to wake. Their faces are young in years, but even in their slumber, they carry the weight of their experience. I remember the distant day when I picked each one of them out for this destiny. I made that decision for the children in my care, and, even now, I do not regret it. With G-Force intact, we are not defeated, no matter what our petty failures.

Despite all that we have lost this day, pride fills me, and determination to fight on. I will face the world with the might of G-Force behind me, and Spectra will tremble at our onslaught.

But here, in the dead of night, with no one to see me but the sleeping Phoenix herself, a silent tear courses down my cheek as Jason strikes out in his sleep against an unseen enemy, as Tiny mutters something about deep water.

Because I look at my children, and I know that I have stolen their dreams.

I've left them with nightmares instead.

_**The End**_


End file.
